


Five times Peter found Lydia in his bed, and one time he did not.

by uhderekhale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1463329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhderekhale/pseuds/uhderekhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia's mom is out of town when Allison and Aiden die and she won't be back for a week. Stiles is too busy helping his best friend cope, and Lydia doesn't really have anybody else. Peter is the last person on her list of who to call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five times Peter found Lydia in his bed, and one time he did not.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written. It's currently 6am and I stayed up all night to write this. (I have school soon too, unfortunately) p.s. some of Peter's thoughts are italicized with 'these quotation marks' those are his direct thoughts kind of, where as the stuff that isn't in quotation nor italicized is kind of just his mind rambling. Everything else italicized is for emphasis.

The first time he hadn't even noticed that she had been there. At least, not yet. He woke up slowly, not noticing that the air smelled a little different. Nor did he notice the way his pillow was sunken in as if someone had just been laying next to him not too long ago. When he figured out what was off, he quickly sat upright, confused and a little anxious. Why was she in his bed? Why didn't he notice right away? Lydia, on the other hand was confused as well. She had no idea why she thought crawling into Peter's bed was a good idea. It was actually a really bad idea. She didn't sleep, she didn't even get under the covers, she was just kind of there, listening to Peter breathe quietly. She was completely numb. Her best friend was dead, her boyfriend was dead. It didn't feel like anything mattered anymore.

These events, added up with the fact that Lydia's mother was out of town for a week was the reason she staying with Peter for the time being. Regardless of not feeling anything, she didn’t want to be alone. Why Peter? She wasn't exactly sure herself. It's not like there were many other options. Stiles was too busy with Scott, and Kira... well she wasn't exactly close with her. So who else was there? Derek? No, there was no one else. Except Peter. When she saw him, when she went looking for him, he just kind of knew. He put his arm around her shoulders and just walked back to his apartment. He had a guest bedroom she could use. She wouldn't be alone. He was right down the hall. _She wouldn't be alone. ___

The second night, Peter laid awake in his room. He left his door cracked this time. He wondered if Lydia would come to his room again? _But why?_ For all he knew, she didn't like him at all. I mean, sure, she was staying here, but that was because there was no one else. A last resort. Right? Eventually, he started drifting off. Just as he was about to cross over into a fully asleep state, he heard a door creek open and soon after, quiet padding down the hall. _'Why?'_ he thought again. He didn't understand. She opened his door and paused. It was almost as if she was making sure he was still asleep. He wasn't, but she didn't need to know that. Shortly after, she walked over to the opposite side of the bed and laid down. This time, she got under the covers. This time, she fell asleep.

He had heard Lydia leave, her under the impression that it was before he had woken up. He didn't stop her. He wasn't sure what type of conversation that would be. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know. Would she be mad? Would she ignore him? Would she stop coming? Would she stop coming anyways?

The third time, was basically normal again. She came around the same time as yesterday, and probably the day before. He would act like he was sleeping again. He didn't really have a reason to let it be known that he was awake. I mean, what would he even say? Hey? No, that wouldn't work. He doubted she wanted him to be awake anyways. So he just slept. They both did.

Peter had an early morning the next day. Due to this, he was up way before Lydia was. He quietly got ready, and just let her sleep. She probably needed it. He was out for a while, long enough for it to be dark when he was about ready to head home. He met with Derek, getting updated on how everyone was doing. He decided not to mention Lydia. He was hungry, and he figured Lydia was too, so on his way home he picked up food from some Chinese restaurant. They ate together, quietly. Peter, for once, didn't have anything to say. Neither of them mentioned anything about Lydia finding her way into Peter's bed.

The fourth time, Peter thought about asking what this was all about. He was most definitely going to ask, if she came again. She did come again, but certain events were unexpected. He was waiting for her. Listening for her. Was she asleep already? It kind of sounded like it, he mused. Maybe she wasn't coming. That was until he heard it. If he wasn't listening, he would have completely missed it. She was whimpering. Quietly, but it was still there. He could hear her begin to toss and turn. _'Nightmares?'_ He thought? Probably. It would make sense. It would also explain why she was coming to his room at night. Her heart was starting to beat louder. She would probably wake up soon. Should he wake her up? No. He wouldn't. As if right on queue, she gasped and sat up. He could hear her shallow breathing, trying to get her heart rate back to normal. He heard her get off her bed and come down the hall. He wouldn't say anything. He would just let her sleep. A little after she got settled in his bed, he turned over and pressed his back to hers. _Just so she knew he was there. ___

The fifth night, Peter wondered if Lydia would have another nightmare. Has she been having them frequently? He knew what nightmares were like. Not the silly ones where unrealistic things happen. Real nightmares, of real events. Traumatic events, at that. Those were no joke. He still dreamt of the fire, over and over again. Whereas Lydia's wounds were still fresh, Peter had a few years to heal. He could imagine her pain, and he wanted to take it away. He wanted to take it away? What? Since when? Did he care about her? Interrupting his thoughts, he heard a noise similar to last night. Nightmares again? No, this was different. She sounded awake. It sounded muffled, it sounded like she was in pain. What was happening? Is she in pain? He got up quickly and went to the door, determined to figure out what was wrong and if she was okay. He grabbed the door handle and froze. She was...crying? Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen or heard her cry once. He slowly sat back on the bed. What do you do when someone cries? He hasn't really dealt with anyone crying in... a very long time. He couldn't do anything. Even if he tried, what could he do? He was frustrated. Laying down again he just sat and listened to her. He heard her take her hand away from her mouth as the crying subsided. She heard her breathe in and out, it was controlled, as if she had to remind herself to breathe. Then, after a few minutes, it was quiet again.

Peter heard the now familiar noise of her door opening and her feet making their way down the hall. _'So she's coming again?' _he thought. He didn't really think she would. He laid still, unsure of what to do. Unsure? He was always sure. That was one thing he was sure of. Except now. He was a little nervous. She had just been crying, should he say something? Should he ask if she's alright? He didn't know. This was different for him, he didn't know what to do. Peter was on his side, facing Lydia's side of the bed. When she laid down, he'd be turned right toward her. Should he turn the other way? He still wasn't sure. After what seemed like an eternity, his door opened and she slipped into his bed. It was pitch black, but Peter could see her. He could see the outline of her face. He could see the shape of her lips and eyes. Those lips that were currently wearing a frown. He hadn't seen her smile the entire time she had been staying with him. Suddenly, those lips he was so concentrated on started quivering, breaking him out of those thoughts. Her shoulders, her entire body was shaking. He could smell the grief rolling off of her. Her pain shouldn't have hit him this hard. Still unsure what the right thing to do was, he wrapped his arms around her. Lydia, shocked, froze instantly, and so did Peter. He was starting to panic. Starting to think that this was absolutely the wrong thing to do and for the second time in his life, felt fear. Though, he only felt fear for a brief moment, before Lydia would burst out into sobs. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair. He didn't say 'Shhh..' He didn't tell her it would be alright. He just ran her fingers through her hair and let her do what she needed to do. He did this until her cries were just small hiccups, and until those dissolved into sniffles. She fell asleep right there, apparently not caring that they were his arms she was sleeping in. He fell asleep too, hugging the girl close to him. He didn't want to think about all of the questions buzzing around in his head. Questions that he didn't think he had a right to ask.__

The next day was quiet, as usual. Lydia spent most of the time in her room. Peter went out, and came back, multiple times. He wasn't sure where he should be. Should he give her some space? Should he be there if she needs him? He didn't know. He was confused and didn't know what to do, but didn't push it. He knew Lydia needed time, for everything. He knew that, but he still didn't know what to do. He was completely used to being the one pulling the strings, the one knowing everything that's going on. Now he didn't know his left from right. He couldn't stay still. He went for a run, which helped him a little, helped him not think for a while. Soon enough, night came. Peter felt like a puppy, waiting for Lydia to return to his room that night. He winced at his own accidental wolf pun. He kept his lamp on this time, stayed sitting up against his bed. He wanted them both to acknowledge that they were sleeping in the same bed. Even if it was only for a second, he wanted to see if she would turn around and go back knowing that he was still 'awake'. She came, and she stayed. They met eyes when she walked in, and then she simply went to her side of the bed and got under the covers. Since when was it _her side?_ He felt dumb thinking such a thing. Of course she wasn't going to stay forever. Though, for the time being, it was _her side._

When Peter woke up that next morning, the sun was barely up. It was dark but you could see the sun making its way up. He was cold. That's odd, why did he feel cold? Werewolves are typically warmer by nature, so at first he didn't quite understand. Looking for warmth, he was reaching for Lydia. He didn't care that it might have been weird, he just wanted to be warm again. Patting the blankets, all he felt was cold. She was gone. She left, and suddenly Peter felt even colder. He realized, later on, that he never knew what 'human' warmth felt like. He never shared a bed with anyone else. Lydia was the first. He never knew how comforting it was. Did she go back to her room? He was in a panic. It didn't take him long to know that she wasn't anywhere in the house. Where was she? Did someone take her? Did she remember how much she hated him and left? If that was the case, she could have at least waited until morning and said something. So he ran. Ran out of the house and ran towards wherever he felt she would be. Would she go home? Would she go to Stiles? Would she take a plane to see Jackson? He looked everywhere. He went to her house, all her friends house, He doubted she would walk to the airport, her car was still at home. He didn't know where to go. Should he call someone? No, not yet. He refused to believe she was in danger. He was praying that she wouldn't be in danger. Would she be at the hospital? No, that would be a little weird. The school? ...Maybe. It was starting to get pretty light out. He drove his car, speeding, not caring if he got pulled over. He needed to see her. He needed to know she was okay. When he got there, he knew she was there. He could smell her. She was close, and he didn’t smell blood.

Should he just leave? He should. Just knowing she was okay should have been enough. It should have been, but it wasn't.

He was calmer now, but still nervous. Why did she leave? Why did she stay? He wanted to know, but would he like the answer? He didn't deserve her, he knew that. Even in a thousand years, he wouldn't deserve her. She was perfect. She was extremely smart, extremely beautiful, and had an extreme attitude. It's what Peter liked the best about her. Her attitude. It was always there, he missed it. It had been so long since he saw it last. He made his way around the school, finding her at one of the benches at the lacrosse field. Ah, was this on purpose? This is where they first met. Officially, at least. She probably saw him coming, she didn't flinch when he sat down next to her. It was quiet, at first. Then, finally, Lydia was the first one to speak.

"Why are you here?" she asked. He thought the answer would be obvious. Despite this, he didn't know how to answer.

"I woke up and you were gone. Wouldn't the normal reaction to be to go out looking for you? I have enemies, Lydia. I didn't know if something had happened to you, or if you were hurt, or if you left for--" He stopped there, not wanting to get into that, at all. "or.. if you just went back home."

She snorted halfheartedly. "If I was hurt? Correct me if I'm wrong but didn't you attack me on this very field? Then tormented me for the next few months?"

Peter didn't say anything. He knew what he did. He knew this was coming. He wouldn't deny it nor defend himself. Nor could he say he truly regretted it. He wouldn't be here without having done any of that so no, he wouldn't regret it. What he does regret, though, is being hated by Lydia. Surely, he'd like to make it up to her, but he doesn't think he can. He doesn't even think he deserves it. Why should he be allowed to have this perfect girl? He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't, but he wants it. He wants her. Peter always gets what he wants. Always, but not this time. He won't do that to her. He's done enough. He gets up to leave and she stops him.

"But," she pauses "but.. if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been able to save Stiles, let alone myself. You were what pulled me out of whatever was happening inside his mind. I heard you call my name. I heard it and it saved me." She's quiet for a second and starts again. "And sure, that might have been for your own benefit. So I wouldn't die without telling you Malia's name." This confuses Peter, he's not exactly sure what she's talking about. She seems more determined to get out what she's trying to say. "When that thing.. when Stiles came out of the floor. You pushed me out of the way. Behind you. You were protecting me."

Peter was speechless. He didn't even really think about protecting Lydia or anything of the sort. I mean sure, he was aware he did it, but it felt natural so he didn't think twice about it. Did she think about it? Was it that meaningful? He continued to stare at her. He really didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Nothing intelligent at least. "I wasn't-- I mean, I didn't--" Lydia rolled her eyes. "I won't say thank you, and you, don't apologize. It's not like I'm going to forgive and forget all about it, but for now, whatever happens.. happens." Peter let what Lydia just said mull over in his head for a bit. He didn't quite understand why, and he still had a ton of questions, but the important thing is; she's accepting him. For now. Peter got up and smirked slightly down at the girl who just never stopped surprising him. "Lydia Martin, you never cease to amaze me." He put out his hand to help her up, and said "Wanna go back? I dunno about you but I'm pretty tired." and with this being her answer, she grabbed his hand and began to walk back to his car. They held hands even after they crawled into bed together.

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't know how to end this, it kind of ended really quickly. I hope it wasn't too terrible though.


End file.
